


GoodNight

by J_Scarecrow



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Chaos, Crossover (kind of), Death, Gen, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Surreal, Time Loop, a character snaps, i dunno how to tag this i don't want to spoil it, look it's normal at first but it doesn't stay that way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-04-14 14:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14138382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Scarecrow/pseuds/J_Scarecrow
Summary: On a stormy night, Katherine seeks refuge in the Lower Manhattan lodging house and spends the night with the newsies.But it's more than that. It is so much more than that, and not in the way you would expect.She should have never knocked on that door.





	1. NIGHT 1 - Stay the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, this'll be a doozy.
> 
> Storyline is completely based off the Vocaloid Night Series (don't ask me what I'm listening to, I don't know where I found this) which I _would_ recommend, but...well, basically it's massive spoilers to this entire story so. Whoops. Search it if you wanna, but I think this story will have more effect if you don't listen to it before you read. I'll probably link it when the story is done which...may be in a long time. Ah well.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and I wish you the best of luck in reading this and understanding it until the very end.

If she looked up, she would see no stars. There would be no moon in the sky to add a bit of white to a black canvas - in fact, there would be no light at all. Blackened clouds were gathering above, dark and looming, a warning for the storm about to hit New York City; she knew there would be no way she would make it home in one piece. She had to find shelter.

Looking around desperately, her eyes landed upon a building a couple of feet away, low light spilling through the windows and offering a homely feel. She recognised it immediately: the Lower Manhattan lodging house, home to boys and girls who had nowhere else to go. Most of them were newsies - she had seen many of them hawking headlines during the day - and they seemed like golden-hearted kids who would be willing to lend a bed for a night. Clutching the faded letter in her hand protectively, she shuffled up to the closed door and gave three strong knocks. A sigh escaped her lips as she felt raindrops start to fall against her back - if she couldn’t stay here, she wouldn’t be let in anywhere, which meant a night of fistful resting in soaked clothing.

~

“Get back here, you bum!”

“Ike, that’s _my_ shirt!”

“I’ll split.”

“Albert, what’re you- _close the window_.”

“Incoming, Crutch!”

“ _Racetrack Higgins_.”

Jack chuckled to himself as he heard all the commotion around him, basking in the familiar feeling of all his friends safely around him. He was currently sat with Spot and Les, the latter recounting some tale about how he managed to trick a lady into buying five papes off him. It was a good story - sold as convincingly as the headlines they hawked - but Jack had been there at the time. The kid had only gotten her to take two. And that was two days ago.

Three loud knocks sounded from the front door and the commotion in the room hushed. Not completely, because Mike and Ike were still arguing about the shirt that Ike was wearing, but most of the newsies were surprised about the fact that they had a visitor on a night like this. Jack stood up, making his way to the door to welcome their unexpected guest and grimacing as he heard the sound of raindrops hitting the walls. He could probably take a good guess as to why someone had come knocking on their door. Spot was still in Manhattan for the same reason.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but be surprised when he opened the door to see a well-dressed young lady standing on their doorstep, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her dress and the other wrapped around her torso.

Well, maybe ‘young lady’ overplayed it. She couldn’t have been more than a year older than Jack himself, yet she still seemed twice as mature as him and any of the people in the building behind him (except maybe Davey). Maybe it was the fancy dress that none of them would ever have a chance of owning, let alone wearing.

“What can I do for you, miss?” Jack asked the girl, taking in the cloudy skies behind her and thinking that he should _probably just let her in_. A quick flash of lightning startled both of them, further cementing his thought.

“I’m so sorry,” she started, eyes flickering past Jack’s face when more newsies started crowding towards the front door to see who their visitor was. He could imagine it was a little intimidating. “I hate to intrude, but my home is rather far from here and I don’t-” She cut herself off with a gasp as thunder rumbled lowly but threateningly in the background, and her arm curled tighter around herself. “Is it possible that I could stay the night? Just for tonight, I promise I won’t get in your way. Um, if you have no space left I can try and ask somewhere else-”

“Woah, miss, slow down!” Jack said, effectively shutting her up. “Of course you can stay the night, we ain’t the kind of people to turn someone away on a night like this! I’s sure we’ll find space. Come in, you must be freezing!”

He stepped aside to let their guest in, smiling at her kindly. Astonished whispers rippled through the hall as everybody saw this girl that was dressed to the nines walking into their run-down home.

Spot took one glance at her and sighed.

“Guess I really ain’t getting back to Brooklyn, huh?”

“Ay, shut your trap, Conlon,” Race said, walking over completely unafraid (a contrast to Davey, who was staring aghast at Race). “Stop thinking about your kingdom for once and respect our new guest. They can survive one night without you.”

“Obviously you don’t know my kingdom as well as you think,” Spot bit back, and Race opened his mouth to argue before the girl spoke up.

“And why can’t you go back to Brooklyn?”

The two boys (plus anybody who was paying attention, which meant everyone) turned to their guest, surprised that she had seemed interested in talking to them. Spot was the first to compose himself.

“If the storm has driven a rich girl to go to a bunch of dirty street rats like us for shelter, that means them streets can’t be walked on,” Spot explained, crossing his arms over his body. “No offense meant to you, of course, miss.”

“You can call me Katherine,” Katherine introduced herself, having realised she hadn’t given them her name. “And I don’t think you’re dirty street rats. We may not be...equal, in terms of money, but that doesn’t mean I want to actively stay away from you. I think you would be a pleasure to stay around.”

“Katherine, huh?” Jack repeated her name, as a murmur broke out throughout the room. Someone like Katherine wanting to stay around people like them? Unheard of. “Same as Pulitzer’s daughter,” Jack continued, giving her a once over. “You look rich enough to be her!”

“That’s...because I am.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the entire room silenced. Everyone stared at her in shock, Jack in particular looking completely lost on how to react. A rich girl trusting them enough to knock on their door was already insane. The daughter of the man they worked for - the owner of a newspaper, no less - trusting them enough to knock on their door was…

“Unbelievable.” Race shook his head as he muttered the words, effectively breaking the silence. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

“What a small world, huh?” Crutchie commented with a chuckle. Katherine smiled at their astonishment, watching fondly as everybody started slipping into conversation again, this time undoubtedly about their surprise guest and how big of a surprise she was. She didn’t notice the boy in front of her until he spoke up.

“Hi Katherine! I’m Les!” Les introduced himself, sticking his hand out for a handshake that Katherine happily gave him. “And that’s my brother Davey, the one in the tie.” Katherine looked over to where Les was pointing, picking out the boy he was talking about. He seemed to be in deep conversation with another newsie - ‘Conlon’, if Katherine could remember correctly - and the two of them looked like the most serious people in the room. She could see the resemblance between Davey and Les.

“And everyone calls me Jack Kelly,” Jack said, placing his hands on Les’ shoulders as he stood behind the younger kid. “You can go around getting names from people if you really wanna, but I can appreciate that there’s a lot of us. Nothing to worry about - everyone’s friendly.”

“You sure seem like a friendly bunch,” Katherine agreed, and she saw Les open his mouth to say something else before they were interrupted.

“Wait, wait, wait, guys, I got an idea!”

“That’s Race,” Jack told Katherine as she looked towards the boy that was balancing on the top of a crate. It looked dangerous, but he seemed unfazed. “Loudmouth. You’ll remember him. Don’t play him in cards.”

Katherine nodded in acknowledgement, noticing the cigar that was held loosely between Race’s fingers. It looked more chewed than used.

“Obviously we gots a _special_ guest with us tonight.” Race nodded towards Katherine, who crossed her arms over her chest as she wondered what he could be up to. For a moment she thought she saw him falter slightly at the movement, but it passed so quickly that it almost felt like she was making things up. “So we gotta make her feel welcome. Don’t wanna make her regret her decision to visit us, right?”

“Get on with it, Racer!” somebody shouted from the back.

“Oi, shut up, I’s getting there!” Race shouted back, before turning to address the whole room again. “How’s about we throw a bit of a party tonight? Just for the heck of it.”

A loud cheer filled the room, effectively blocking out the sound of thunder crashing outside - apparently the newsies liked partying. And apparently they were organised when it came to partying too, because merely seconds later people were rushing out of the room and heading towards different places in the lodging house to do god knows what, almost as if they had done this all before. The only one who looked as if he didn’t know what to do was that ‘Conlon’ guy; Katherine presumed that was because he was from Brooklyn so he hadn’t taken part in this before.

“Everything okay over here?” Katherine asked as she walked over, snapping the guy out of the daze he had slipped into.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, and Katherine took in the way he stood and held himself, a lot more guarded than the rest of the newsies around them. “Name’s Spot, in case you’s wondering. Spot Conlon.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him in the hopes of being able to get him to let loose a bit. “Everyone here sure is excitable, aren’t they?”

“Much more rowdy than my bunch, that’s for sure,” Spot replied. Katherine idly took note of the way he said ‘his bunch’, confirming her suspicion that he was probably from Brooklyn instead of Manhattan. Perhaps he was the leader over there. “Anyway, why’re you staying around me? I’s heard from Racetrack that these guys can throw a mean party when they want to, you should probably go around and experience it for yourself.”

“I assume you haven’t experienced one of these either, though. You’re from Brooklyn, right? Not Manhattan?” Receiving a curt nod in reply, Katherine continued. “Why don’t you go around yourself? Have some fun whilst you’re stuck here on a bad night.”

Spot shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets, and Katherine hummed before turning to go look around. It seemed like he wasn’t exactly one for conversation.

The night passed by in a blur of shouting, pushing and quick conversations. At one point somebody had started hitting the crate that Race had stood on, beating a rhythm that everyone seemed to recognise. Newsies had started gathering round and dancing, smiles wide and eyes lit up in excitement (Katherine had a feeling that some of them were just trying to show off, but they were a surprisingly talented bunch so nobody was complaining). The few times she got to have an actual conversation with somebody resulted in names being thrown at her and a healthy dose of confusion, but with this many people she was happy to be able to put names to memories.

Elmer had been the one to help her make her way out of a crowded bunk room. Jojo was the one who started a game of cards ten minutes into the night. Albert was the one who stole Race’s cigar while he wasn’t looking (apparently this was normal). Romeo had tried to flirt with her (also apparently normal). Mush offered her a glass of water from their small kitchen, Buttons almost fell off a bunk bed, Henry _did_ fall off a bunk bed, Smalls laughed at the two of them. Sniper almost shot Finch in the eye with a pebble, sparking an argument that Specs quickly stopped once Finch pulled out his own slingshot. Kid Blink and Crutchie started an impromptu singing session by belting out a song that Katherine thought she had heard from a theatre somewhere. Mike and Ike tricked her into thinking they were one person who could teleport. It was utter chaos that she had never experienced before, but as things started to calm down she found that she would be happy to do that over and over again, every night. There was something exhilarating about being surrounded by people who seemed almost carefree, people who still had that childish side to them - her father hadn’t let her be like this at all in her life. She wished it didn’t have to end.

Some wishes you just can’t get, though, and eventually Katherine was looking for Jack (who appeared to be the unofficial leader) so she could get a bed for the night.

“Jack!” she called out when she finally spotted the boy with the striped undershirt. His head whipped around, grinning when he saw her.

“Heya, Plumber,” Jack said, making Katherine pause. _Had she told him her pen name?_ She probably had, it had been a blur of a night. “You need something?”

“I was planning on going to bed, actually,” Katherine replied. “Is there anywhere I can sleep?”

“Oh! Sure.” Jack led Katherine towards the room that she had dubbed the bunk room in her head, pushing his way through crowds of newsies that had started to act more drowsily themselves. She wondered if it was normal for them to stay up this late - one glance at the grandfather clock in the hall, however, told her that it wasn’t actually too late at all. It hadn’t even hit midnight yet. Still, it felt like they had been messing around for hours - _what time was it when she got to the house?_

“All we gots is bunk beds, and since the Jacobs’ and Spot are staying over, and Crutchie and I gotta sleep indoors tonight, we’s gonna have a lot of people bunking together.” Jack looked back at Katherine. “Of course, we’ll try and get you a bed for yourself. Nothing but the best for our guest, yeah?”

“Thank you,” Katherine said earnestly, because even though she had loved all the time she had spent with these kids, she didn’t think she would be comfortable sharing a bed with one of them. She didn’t think she’d be comfortable sharing a bed with anyone.

“And you’s probably gonna have to sleep in your fancy day clothes too,” Jack continued, scratching the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed. He looked over the bunks, mentally counting something, before he gestured towards one of the lower bunks. “We don’t really got much, so, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Katherine said, sitting down on the bed that Jack had gestured at. “Thank you for everything tonight.”

“No problem, Plumber,” Jack replied with a nod. “If you need anything else, you know who to call.”

He tipped his hat - why was he still wearing his hat? - at her as some sort of final goodnight before he made his way out of the room. Katherine looked back around at the room one more time before lying down and closing her eyes. The background noise from everybody moving around the house made for a good sound to fall asleep to, and she felt herself smile as her exhaustion caught up to her.

She fell asleep before the clock could strike midnight.

~

She woke up refreshed, ready to start the day, but then immediately became confused when she didn’t recognise the creaky bed she was sleeping on. Then the memories from the previous night came back.

Immediately followed by the fact that something felt completely and utterly _wrong_.

A small scuffle from the area where the door was caused her to open her eyes and sit up, only to notice how dark the room was. _Shouldn’t it be daytime already?_ Glancing at the window, Katherine was surprised to see that the sun hadn’t risen yet. It was then that she noticed that nobody was in the bunk room except for her. _Something was definitely wrong_.

“Guys, she’s awake!” she heard a small voice exclaim, immediately connecting the voice to Les, who she remembered to be the younger Jacobs brother. Slowly getting up from the bed, Katherine made her way to the door and to where she assumed everybody would be. She was right.

“What’s going on?” she asked the body of people, all of them turning to her as soon as she spoke up. Les - stood directly in front of her - opened his mouth to say something before looking at his brother as if to ask permission to tell her. Davey saw his brother’s hesitance and glanced down the hall, debating something in his mind before looking back at Les and giving a small nod. Something akin to fear was in his eyes, but Katherine had no idea why.

“Miss Katherine?” Les said, his voice almost a whisper. “We have to show you something.”

He reached out to hold her hand and she let him, following him through the crowd as he lead her someplace down the hall. The newsies made way for the two of them, every single one of them holding some sort of fear or nervousness in their expression as they watched them. The only person who wasn’t looking at them was Spot, who had his eyes fixed on the book he was hugging tightly to his chest.

When Les came to a stop, Katherine found herself staring at the grandfather clock, which seemed to be one of the most expensive things in the building. After a moment’s hesitation, Les spoke up again.

“Look at the time,” he whispered, and Katherine could only wonder what was wrong with the time as she read what the hands told her.

Then it hit her.

It was only two minutes to midnight.


	2. Hands on the Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine deals with problems. Kind of. Just read it, you'll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's shorter than the last one because while the first chapter had events that took place from the first verse and chorus of the song that this story is based on, this one is only based on about two lines of the song, so...lots of padding out, I guess.
> 
> Warning: Jack swears once in this chapter. That's about as bad as it gets for now.

“...What?”

Her question - though more of an exclamation than anything - was met with silence from the boys and girls around her. Nobody offered any kind of explanation, so her own mind jumped to what she thought was one of the worst case scenarios.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, turning around to look at everybody. She _thought_ that she had merely slept her way through the following day and into the night again - it was the only rational explanation she could come up with at the moment - but the guilty and sorry looks on everybody’s faces said otherwise.

“Katherine, it’s still…” Jack’s voice trailed off, as if he didn’t want to finish his sentence. Katherine turned to him, highly confused and frustrated at not being able to figure out what was happening. “I mean-”

“Still what?” Katherine asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jack claimed, turning his head away from Katherine’s inquisitive gaze.

“Try me,” she said, a slight chuckle in her voice despite the worry that everybody was causing her to feel. After the little impromptu party, Katherine thought that she had earned the trust of these kids. Now, however, she was starting to question whether that was the case.

There was a pause. A pause that stretched on too long for anybody’s liking, that strengthened the tension in the hallway tenfold and made everybody wish they weren’t standing in that hall. Nobody dared to move or speak, and some of the newsies were actually holding their breath.

It was Jack that spoke up again.

“We, uh…” he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “It appears that...well-”

“Time has stopped.” Everybody turned to Les, who was now shying away from the attention that followed his blunt statement. “It’s- it’s just...stopped. Like, morning hasn’t come. The clock hand ain’t moving, see?”

Turning back to the clock face, Katherine read the time again: the minute hand pointed just shy off the twelve and the hour hand was basically touching it, although not quite. 11:58. Two minutes to midnight.

If the clock hands had been moving as they should have been, the clock should have already struck midnight. Les was right.

Katherine didn’t want to believe that Les was right.

“Surely…” she said, turning back to the ensemble of newsies whilst her brain scrambled for a logical explanation. “Surely the clock just died, right? It died at this exact moment, and nobody realised, right?”

“Then explain the sun, wise girl,” somebody - Race, she thought - called out. “Did the sun die too? It hasn’t exactly risen yet, has it?”

“Well, does anybody know what the actual time is?” Katherine asked, grasping for straws. _Time stopping was illogical, irrational, and there had to be a logical reason for why things seemed like they were. It wasn’t like she was living in a fictional story where things happened without explanation._

“It should be morning,” Spot muttered, his grip on the book in his hands tightening. “As in, the circulation bell should have rang by now. Trust me, _princess_ , I hasn’t slept. I’s been up all night, and the morning definitely hasn’t made an appearance yet.”

For a second, Katherine felt her heart stop. Had those words come from anybody else she would have scoffed at them, but Spot? She knew, even though they had only shared a couple of sentences during the party before, that he wouldn’t joke around with something like this. He didn’t seem like that kind of person. But that meant accepting the impossible, which was preposterous.

“That...that means…” She turned back to the clock face, ignoring the feeling of every pair of eyes burning into her back. The clock hands were intricate, shaped with a sort of delicacy that almost distracted her from the situation. The golden metal had a sort of cold gleam to it as the shiny surface reflected the light from a lamp on the wall. She couldn’t help but note how sharp the edges of the hands looked, almost like they were designed to be blades before somebody decided to attach them to a clock face. Part of her wondered how the hell the newsies managed to afford something like this for the lodging house, then figured that they probably got it as a gift.

Still, the entire time she stared at the clock face, the hands didn’t move. The sky hadn’t gotten any brighter since she’d woken up, either.

Time had stopped.

“...I need a moment to myself,” Katherine muttered, just loud enough for the few people standing around her to hear. She pushed herself through the crowd of newsies and out of the hall, heading towards where she remembered the kitchen to be. Everybody stared after her, nobody wanting to break the silence.

“...Could’ve gone worse,” Crutchie finally mumbled after a couple of seconds. “She don’t...it don’t seem like she hates us yet…”

“At least she didn’t scream,” Albert stated, earning an indignant scoff from Romeo.

“I did _not_ scream!” he argued. “I just had a...loud outburst!”

“Which woke the rest of us up,” Smalls muttered to herself and Jojo standing next to her, making sure that Romeo couldn’t hear her. Jojo stifled a laugh.

“Alright, everyone, clear off and go do whatever!” Jack called out to everyone. “We’s got a...long night ahead of us, so, uh, just don’t hurt each other and I’ll let yous do what you like.”

As everyone dispersed from the hall, Race made his way over to where Spot stood still.

“C’mon, Spotty, put your book down and let loose! We gots a lot of time to kill here.”

“I ain’t letting go of this book,” Spot snapped back. “Too important.”

“What kind of book can be _that_ important?” Race asked sarcastically, stopping himself short at the venom in Spot’s pointed look. A couple seconds passed before, “Oh…”

“Yeah, you knucklehead.”

“Who made _you_ the great protector, huh? You ain’t even from here.”

“Well, I didn’t see nobody else looking after it!”

“We was all asleep, Spot.”

“Yeah, but during that party it was just sitting on a table, out in the open. That’s dangerous.”

“Nothing bad will happen to the book, Spotty boy. Don’t gotta be so protective.”

“You need to shut up, Racetrack.”

“Fine,” Race ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tick that Spot had noticed which gave away just how stressed he really was. He also noticed that his cigar was tucked into his pocket instead of being in his hand or mouth, which was different and new. Race was scared. “Don’t just stand around here until the end comes or whatever, though. Join us! Have some fun!”

Spot studied the hidden nervous look in Race’s eyes for a couple more seconds before he sighed and obliged, walking towards the main room with a satisfied Racetrack at his heels.

~

“What does this door lead to?” Katherine asked, studying a wooden door in the kitchen that she hadn’t noticed before. Although she had had time to contemplate the situation, it still didn’t make sense - by now she had decided that the best course of action was to completely ignore the issue and go on as if nothing was wrong.

“Basement,” Jack replied, not fully paying attention as he sketched something onto a spare newspaper. “Nothing interesting down there, no need to worry about it. Also, is this an article of yours?” He held up the newspaper, which she now realised was an edition of the Sun, and sure enough she could recognise the entertainment article she had written.

”Yes, that’s mine.”

”Why’s it under the name ‘Katherine Plumber’, though? Thought your second name was Pulitzer.”

”It _is_ ,” Katherine replied. “But I’d rather not plaster everything I do with my father’s name. Plumber is my pen name.” _Didn’t you use my pen name before?_

”Well, nice choice,” Jack commented.

“Hm.” Glancing back at the door once more, Katherine let herself get distracted as she joined a card game that some of the newsies had started, although her eyes kept being drawn back to the wooden structure. It was tempting her, if inanimate objects could tempt people, and when she lost early in the game for the third time she quietly excused herself from the group and made her way back over.

“I’m just going to...take a look,” she said quietly, part of her wanting to tell everyone where she was going with another part of her not wanting them to hear and stop her. When nobody made any move to acknowledge her, she shrugged to herself, quietly opening the surprisingly heavy door and stepping through.

“...Wait, did she say-” Jack looked up just in time to see Katherine disappear down the staircase that had been behind the door, and he gasped as he took in the open door that he was so used to being closed. Panic settled over his body - nobody went into the basement anymore, especially visitors. The others in the room looked up to see what he had gasped at, and when they saw what he saw a nervous mumble rippled through everyone. A couple of newsies ran off to alert the others who weren’t currently in the kitchen, while Jack said the first thing that flashed in his mind.

“...Fuck.”

~

If the door had been tempting her before, the stairs were now taunting her.

With every step she took, Katherine felt more nerves and doubt settle into her. Thoughts of ‘ _you shouldn’t be doing this_ ’, ‘ _there could be something terrible here_ ’ and ‘ _you’ll regret this_ ’ raced through her mind, but she pushed on for the mere sake of morbid curiosity. Jack had said there was nothing interesting down in the basement, right? So she had nothing to be afraid of, and she was merely investigating, right?

She pushed on.

Every time her feet hit the stairs, the sound of shoes on stone echoed on the walls around her (stone? Wasn’t everything else made of wood in the house?). It sent chills down her spine and she felt herself shiver, almost turning around and going back. She couldn’t, though, because she had already come too far - she could see the bottom of the staircase and another wooden door that stood there. Turning back around would defeat the entire purpose of this.

Stepping up to the second wooden door, she reached out and placed a hand on it. The basement was behind this door. Her curiosity would be filled. Why was she so nervous?

Katherine took in a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Then froze.

Dread flooded through her, mixed nicely with a good amount of panic and disbelief.

In front of her stood a giant room filled with rows upon rows of dusty coffins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last calm chapter before everything goes crazy, by the way. Hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.


	3. Bad End Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologise. This has been planned from the beginning, but I still feel horrible for writing it.
> 
> TW: blades, murder, death (like a lot of it, I tried to make it as implicit as possible but it's still there), one curse word. If there's anything else, please tell me and I'll add it.

“Oh no.”

“Oh  _ God. _ ”

“Uh oh...”

“So she’s seen it now.”

“No, no, nonono-”

“Please don’t panic. For the sake of  _ all _ of us, please don’t panic.”

Her mind faintly registered the voices of the newsies behind her, people clambering down the stone steps that she had just descended, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around. These kind-hearted, young-spirited,  _ innocent _ children kept a room of coffins hidden underneath their living quarters.  _ Oh God, this was where she died. _

“Katherine?” Jack called out feebly. He sounded just as scared as she felt.  _ Preposterous. _ “Katherine, we can explain.”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t think she could. Her voice had decided to just frolick away from her at this moment, and she couldn’t even will herself to turn around and face them.  _ They had a reason for this, right? _

_...Don’t be silly. Time stopped in this stupid lodging house, what kind of reason do they need to have a room of coffins? _

“...I don’t want to hear it,” she muttered darkly, fists clenching at her side as she felt her nerves catch up with her.

“Katherine-”

“SHUT UP!” she shouted, spinning and glaring at whoever had just spoken, which happened to be Race. He looked positively scared out of his wits, and had she been in any other state of mind, Katherine would have felt guilty for rounding in on him. But she wasn’t in control of her emotions at that moment; anger, confusion and panic mixed together into what could easily be described as fury, although she didn’t know what she was furious about.

Spot shifted the book still clutched in his hands. He studied Katherine’s expression, reading her emotions like he would with people he was trying to sell to.

“Looks like we’re in for a bad end night,” he whispered, though nobody paid attention to him.

Katherine growled as she took in the people in front of her. They all looked guilty or scared, but she could tell that they all had known about this room and that they hadn’t wanted her to see it.

_ I trusted you. _

A small voice in the back of her mind tried to tell her that she was being irrational, that this was nothing to get mad over, but she didn’t listen to it. Instead, she barged through the crowd, shoving shocked people out of the way as she climbed back up the stairs as quickly as she could.

She pretended to not be affected by the terrified look she glimpsed in Jojo’s eyes.

Upon bursting back into the kitchen, Katherine realised she had no idea what she was planning to do. She  _ would _ have stormed out of the house, but it was still pouring outside and she would have nowhere to go.  Not to mention that time was still frozen.

_ Stupid house. _

There was a way out of this, she knew it. There was some sort of key, something that would let her free herself from this horrible scene.  _ But where would it be? _

She could hear the faint sounds of footsteps making their way up the stairs and she growled - there was no way she would let them get her. Not those stupid, grimy little kids with not a nickel to their name who hid a room of coffins under their beds. With a huff, she made her way out of the kitchen and towards the hall.

She just needed a key; metaphorical or physical, she couldn’t care less. Something golden with a cold gleam, something  _ obvious _ that she was missing…

Her feet led her to stand in front of the grandfather clock.

_ The clock hands were intricate, shaped with a sort of delicacy that almost distracted her from the situation. The golden metal had a sort of cold gleam to it as the shiny surface reflected the light from a lamp on the wall. She couldn’t help but note how sharp the edges of the hands looked, almost like they were designed to be blades before somebody decided to attach them to a clock face. _

“...I found it.”

The words were whispered, soft, and she would be the only one to ever hear them. She felt the pieces clicking into place, something out of her control whispering to her what to do. The idea was horrid, and in any other situation she would have never even considered it, but in this situation it felt horribly  _ right _ .

Without hesitation, she ripped the hands from the clock.

“Miss Katherine!” a voice called out - she faintly registered her mind calling them Buttons. “Miss- it’s okay! Please!”

_ It’s not okay, _ she thought, studying the blade in her hand.  _ When was it ever okay? _

She heard footsteps running towards her before they stopped abruptly, followed by a gasp. When Buttons spoke again, their voice shook.

“Miss...Katherine?”

She chuckled.

“I trusted you,” she muttered darkly, slowly turning her head in time to see Buttons gulp. “I trusted you ALL!”

Before they could react, she lunged forwards.

Jojo’s blood-curdling scream tore through the house.

Katherine looked up, smiling wickedly at the sight of the newsie stood frozen at the other end of the hallway. As soon as their eyes met, Jojo made to run, but Katherine was faster.

As soon as they all saw Jojo fall, the lodging house went chaos.

Everybody scattered, scrambling to get out of the house, but Katherine found herself filled with bloodlust that moved faster than their fear. Names flashed through her mind - names that she would never need to know again.

Elmer. Smalls.

“Shit- the book!”

Henry. Albert. Specs.

“Forget the stupid book, Conlon, run!”

Finch. Les.

“But-”

“THE BOOK OR YOUR LIFE, IDIOT?!”

Romeo.

Katherine breathed heavily as she stood over Romeo, the blade held tightly in her hand. His breath came quickly, and from his place on the floor he knew he wouldn’t be able to get out. There was nobody else left except himself and Katherine, and he glanced at the discarded book that wasn’t too far from his head. Katherine followed his gaze, and she grinned.

“Spotty’s little book, huh?” She bent down and picked it up, running her thumb over the pages as Romeo watched. “Seemed important.” She stopped at a page in the middle of the book, her fingers holding it gently. “It would be a shame if something were too…” Her eyes flickered over to Romeo, who was staring in fear at the book as if he knew what she was about to do. “...Happen to it.”

With a flick of her wrist, she ripped the page clear out of the book, crumpling it up and throwing it out of sight. She let the book drop to the ground, reveling in the tears that were gathering in Romeo’s eyes.

The last thing he saw was the book on the ground, missing a page, before the lodging house went silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.
> 
> The story isn't over yet. I promise. Just wait.


	4. NIGHT 2 - Stay the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We go around again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...have no excuse for how long it took to post this. This has been ready for two months already. I think I was waiting until I finished the next chapter, but it’s been so long that...may as well post this if it’s ready.
> 
> Also there might be a couple of formatting problems regarding italics but it’s been so long that I don’t think it matters all that much.
> 
> TW: Race curses once at the end, but that's about it.

If she looked up, she would see no stars. There would be no light at all. Blackened clouds were gathering above, dark and looming, a warning for the storm; she knew there would be no way she would make it home in one piece. She had to find shelter.

Looking around desperately, her eyes landed upon a building a couple of feet away, low light spilling through the windows. She recognised it immediately: the Lower Manhattan lodging house, home to boys and girls who had nowhere else to go. Most of them were newsies - she had seen many of them hawking headlines during the day - and they seemed like the kind of kids who would be willing to lend a bed for a night. Clutching the faded letter in her hand protectively, she shuffled up to the closed door and gave three strong knocks.

~

“I’ll split.”

“Get back here, you bum!”

“Albert, what’re you- _close the window._ ”

“Ike, that’s _my_ shirt!”

“Incoming, Crutch!”

“ _Racetrack Higgins._ ”

Jack chuckled to himself as he heard all the commotion around him, basking in the familiar feeling of all his friends safely around him. He was currently sat with Spot and Les, the latter recounting some tale about how he managed to trick a lady into buying four papes off him. It was a good story - sold as convincingly as the headlines they hawked - but Jack had been there at the time. The kid had only gotten her to take two. And that was two days ago.

Three loud knocks sounded from the front door and the commotion in the room hushed. Not completely, because Mike and Ike were still arguing about the shirt that Ike was wearing, but most of the newsies were surprised about the fact that they had a visitor on a night like this. Jack stood up, making his way to the door to welcome their guest and grimacing as he heard the sound of raindrops hitting the walls. He could probably take a good guess as to why someone had come knocking on their door. Spot was still in Manhattan for the same reason.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but blink when he opened the door to see a well-dressed young lady standing on their doorstep, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her dress and the other wrapped around her torso.

“What can I do for you, miss?” Jack asked the girl, taking in the cloudy skies behind her and thinking that he should _probably just let her in_ , although he still hesitated. A quick flash of lightning startled both of them, further cementing his thought.

“I’m so sorry,” she started, eyes flickering past Jack’s face when more newsies started crowding towards the front door to see who their visitor was. He could imagine it was a little intimidating. “I hate to intrude, but my home is rather far from here and I don’t-” She cut herself off with a gasp as thunder rumbled lowly but threateningly in the background, and her arm curled tighter around herself. “Is it possible that I could stay the night? Just for tonight, I promise I won’t get in your way. Um, if you have no space left I can try and ask somewhere else-”

“Woah, miss, slow down!” Jack said, effectively shutting her up. “Of course you can stay the night, we ain’t the kind of people to turn someone away on a night like this! I’s sure we’ll find space. Come in, you must be freezing!”

He stepped aside to let their guest in, smiling at her kindly. Astonished whispers rippled through the hall as everybody saw this girl that was dressed to the nines walking into their run-down home.

Spot took one glance at her and sighed.

“Guess I really ain’t getting back to Brooklyn, huh?”

“Ay, shut your trap, Conlon,” Race said, walking over completely unafraid (a contrast to Davey, who was staring shocked at Race). “Stop thinking about your kingdom for once and respect our new guest. They can survive one night without you.”

“Obviously you don’t know my kingdom as well as you think,” Spot bit back, and Race opened his mouth to argue before the girl spoke up.

“And why can’t you go back to Brooklyn?”

The two boys (plus anybody who was paying attention, which meant everyone) turned to their guest, surprised that she had seemed interested in talking to them. Spot was the first to compose himself.

“If the storm has driven a rich girl to go to a bunch of dirty street rats like us for shelter, that means them streets can’t be walked on,” Spot explained, crossing his arms over his body. “No offense meant to you, of course, miss.”

“You can call me Katherine,” Katherine introduced herself, having realised she hadn’t given them her name. “And I don’t think you’re dirty street rats. We may not be...equal, in terms of money, but that doesn’t mean I want to actively stay away from you. I think you would be a pleasure to stay around.”

“Katherine, huh?” Jack repeated her name, as a murmur broke out throughout the room. Someone like Katherine wanting to stay around people like _them_? Unheard of. “Same as Pulitzer’s daughter,” Jack continued, giving her a once over. “You look rich enough to be her!”

“That’s...because I am.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the chatter in the room ceased. Everyone stared at her in shock, Jack in particular looking quite lost on how to react. A rich girl trusting them enough to knock on their door was already insane. The daughter of the man they worked for - the owner of a newspaper, no less - trusting them enough to knock on their door was…

“Unbelievable.” Race shook his head as he muttered the words, effectively breaking the silence. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

“What a small world, huh?” Crutchie commented with a chuckle. Katherine smiled at their astonishment, watching fondly as everybody started slipping into conversation again, this time undoubtedly about their surprise guest and how big of a surprise she was. She didn’t notice the boy in front of her until he spoke up.

“Hi Katherine! I’m Les!” Les introduced himself, sticking his hand out for a handshake that Katherine happily gave him. “And that’s my brother Davey, the one in the tie.” Katherine looked over to where Les was pointing, picking out the boy he was talking about. He seemed to be in deep conversation with another newsie - ‘Conlon’, if Katherine could remember correctly - and the two of them looked like the most serious people in the room. She could see the resemblance between Davey and Les.

“And everyone calls _me_ Jack Kelly,” Jack said, placing his hands on Les’ shoulders as he stood behind the younger kid. “You can go around getting names from people if you really wanna, but I can appreciate that there’s a lot of us. Nothing to worry about - everyone’s friendly.”

“You sure seem like a friendly bunch,” Katherine agreed, and she saw Les open his mouth to say something else before they were interrupted.

“Wait, wait, wait, guys, I got an idea!”

“That’s Race,” Jack told Katherine as she looked towards the boy that was balancing on the top of a crate. It looked dangerous, but he seemed unfazed. She recognised him from somewhere - perhaps he had sold her a paper. “Loudmouth. Don’t play him in cards.”

Katherine nodded in acknowledgement, noticing the cigar that was held loosely between Race’s fingers. It looked more chewed than used.

“Obviously we gots a _special_ guest with us tonight.” Race nodded towards Katherine, who crossed her arms over her chest as she wondered what he could be up to. For a moment she thought she saw him falter slightly at the movement, but it passed so quickly that it almost felt like she was making things up. “So we gotta make her feel welcome. Don’t wanna make her regret her decision to visit us, right?”

“Get on with it, Racer!” somebody shouted from the back.

“Oi, shut up, I’s getting there!” Race shouted back, before turning to address the whole room again. “How’s about we throw a bit of a party tonight? Just for the heck of it.”

A loud cheer filled the room, effectively blocking out the sound of thunder crashing outside - apparently the newsies liked partying. And apparently they were organised when it came to partying too, because merely seconds later people were rushing out of the room and heading towards different places in the lodging house to do god knows what, almost as if they had done this all before. The only one who stayed in his place was that ‘Conlon’ guy; Katherine presumed that was because he was from Brooklyn so he hadn’t taken part in this before.

“Everything okay over here?” Katherine asked as she walked over, snapping the guy out of the daze he had slipped into.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, and Katherine took in the way he stood and held himself, a lot more guarded than the rest of the newsies around them. “Name’s Spot, in case you’s wondering. Spot Conlon.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him in the hopes of being able to get him to let loose a bit. “Everyone here sure is excitable, aren’t they?”

“Much more rowdy than my bunch, that’s for sure,” Spot replied, something in his voice sounding tighter than natural. Katherine idly took note of the way he said ‘his bunch’, confirming her suspicion that he was probably from Brooklyn instead of Manhattan. Perhaps he was the leader over there. “Anyway, why’re you staying around me? I’s heard from Racetrack that these guys can throw a mean party when they want to, you should probably go around and experience it for yourself.”

“I assume you haven’t experienced one of these either, though. You’re from Brooklyn, right? Not Manhattan?” Receiving a curt nod in reply, Katherine continued. “Why don’t you go around yourself? Have some fun whilst you’re stuck here on a bad night.”

Spot paused ( _did he flinch?_ ) before shrugging, placing his hands in his pockets, and Katherine hummed before turning to go look around. It seemed like he wasn’t exactly one for conversation.

The night passed by in a blur of shouting, pushing and quick conversations. At one point somebody had started hitting the crate that Race had stood on, beating a rhythm that everyone seemed to recognise. Newsies had started gathering round and dancing, smiles wide and eyes lit up in excitement (Katherine had a feeling that some of them were just trying to show off, but they were a surprisingly talented bunch so nobody was complaining). The few times she got to have an actual conversation resulted in names being thrown at her and a healthy dose of confusion, but with this many people she was happy to be able to put names to memories.

Jojo had been the one to help her make her way out of a crowded bunk room. Elmer was the one who started a game of cards ten minutes into the night. Romeo had tried to flirt with her (apparently this was normal). Albert was the one who stole Race’s cigar while he wasn’t looking (also apparently normal). Buttons offered her a glass of water from their small kitchen, Mush almost fell off a bunk bed, Smalls _did_ fall off a bunk bed, Henry laughed at the two of them. Finch almost shot Sniper in the eye with a pebble, sparking an argument that Davey quickly stopped once Sniper pulled out her own slingshot. Crutchie and Kid Blink started an impromptu singing session by belting out a song that Katherine thought she had heard from a theatre somewhere. Mike and Ike tricked her into thinking they were one person who could teleport. It was utter chaos that she had never experienced before, but as things started to calm down she found that she would be happy to do that over and over again, every night. There was something exhilarating about being surrounded by people who seemed almost carefree, people who still had that childish side to them - her father hadn’t let her be like this at all in her life. She wished it didn’t have to end.

Eventually, though, Katherine found herself looking for Jack (who appeared to be the unofficial leader) so she could get a bed for the night.

“Jack!” she called out when she finally spotted the boy with the striped undershirt. His head whipped around, grinning when he saw her.

“Heya, Plumber,” Jack said, making Katherine pause. _Had she told him her pen name?_ “You need something?”

“I was planning on going to bed, actually,” Katherine replied. “Is there anywhere I can sleep?”

“Oh! Sure.” Jack led Katherine towards the room that she had dubbed the bunk room in her head, pushing his way through crowds of newsies that had started to act more drowsily themselves. She wondered if it was normal for them to stay up this late - one glance at the grandfather clock in the hall, however, told her that it wasn’t actually too late at all. It hadn’t even hit midnight yet. Still, it felt like they had been messing around for hours - _what time was it when she got to the house?_

“All we gots is bunk beds, and since the Jacobs’ and Spot are staying over, and Crutchie and I gotta sleep indoors tonight, we’s gonna have a lot of people bunking together.” Jack looked back at Katherine. “Of course, we’ll try and get you a bed for yourself. Nothing but the best for our guest, yeah?”

“Thank you,” Katherine said earnestly, because even though she had loved all the time she had spent with these kids, she didn’t think she would be comfortable sharing a bed with one of them. She didn’t think she’d be comfortable sharing a bed with anyone.

“And you’s probably gonna have to sleep in your fancy day clothes too,” Jack continued, scratching the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed. He looked over the bunks, mentally counting something, before he gestured towards one of the lower bunks. “We don’t really got much, so, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Katherine said, sitting down on the bed that Jack had gestured at. “Thank you for everything tonight.”

“No problem, Plumber,” Jack replied with a nod. “If you need anything else, you know who to call."

He tipped his hat - why was he still wearing his hat? - at her as some sort of final goodnight before he made his way out of the room. Katherine looked back around at the room one more time before lying down and closing her eyes. The background noise from everybody moving around the house made for a good sound to fall asleep to, and she felt herself smile as her exhaustion caught up to her.

She fell asleep before the clock could strike midnight.

~

Race yawned as he rolled over in his bed, before promptly falling out of it.

“Ow! What the-?”

Pushing himself up from the floor, he looked back at his bed to find it empty, unlike how it had been when he had decided to hit the hay.

_Of course Spot’s up early,_ he thought to himself, rubbing his head where it had hit the wooden floor. _I doubt he even slept a wink._

“Race?”

_Well, speak of the devil._

Race turned to see Spot standing in the doorway, a familiar book held tightly in his arms and his face grim. He gestured out to the hallway before walking out of the room, which Race took as a cue to follow him.

Standing in the lodging house hallway in the dead of night was an interesting experience, one which Race was familiar with. While at first it seemed silent, if you listened closely you could hear the snores and quiet murmurs of the sleeping newsies in the bunk room, and it was almost endearing. The look that Spot had on his face, however, broke the peace that usually settled over him during this time.

“What d’you wanna tell me, Spot?” Race whispered, feeling as if he should know the answer but wanting to be told anyway.

“...It’s more showing than telling,” Spot muttered back, leading Race down the hallway until they reached the grandfather clock that had been a gift from Kloppman. He nodded towards the clock and Race gave him a look, before turning to read the time.

“It’s two to midnight,” Race said, turning back to Spot. He didn’t catch anything weird about what he had just said. “And you wanted to show me this because…?”

“Oh my g- think about it, Racer!” Spot whispered harshly, annoyed at the ignorance of his friend. “Do you not see anything weird about that?”

“How do you mean?”

“Alright, when did you go to sleep?”

Race looked at Spot again, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Answer the question!”

“Okay, geez...I dunno, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Well, what time do you _think_ it was?”

“Like, near midnight?”

Spot looked at Race expectantly, but the boy still didn’t catch on.

“And how well-rested do you feel right now?”

“Like I slept the whole night through- oh.”

Spot sighed. _Finally._ “Yeah. Oh.”

Race turned back to the clock, watching both hands intently, but neither moved. He knew what this meant.

And how did he feel about this? Well, as he so eloquently put it:

“Well, fuck.”  


**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at @joey-the-scarecrow on Tumblr if you wanna complain about how bad/confusing/weird this is.


End file.
